


A Guiding Melody

by Siver



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: There is a melody beyond his hearing but felt in his veins. It’s a distant thing, meaningless in this place between deepest darkness and star’s light.It calls.





	A Guiding Melody

He drifts. He’s far away and he’s present. He stands rooted in horror atop a mountain at the impossibility of it all. Faces familiar and new look to him and he cannot see them. He treads long lost paths, at one with the ancient trees. They have seen more than he will ever know. He is surrounded by his books in comfort and peace despite the inherent danger. Smoke, acrid and burning, the loss burns more than any flame could. He drifts.

There is a melody beyond his hearing but felt in his veins. It’s a distant thing, meaningless in this place between deepest darkness and star’s light.

It calls.

It calls and he cannot answer but he can follow through twisted roads of dreams and recollection. Memories and thought. Fears and hopes.

Notes echo through his awareness, clear now, a tether to a place he knows. There is earth beneath him and the sky above, and he no longer feels spread across the ages and places without joining. A familiar shape sits near, head bowed over his lute, fingers picking out a quiet tune.

“Tariq…”

“You are here, Volfred sir.”

And the others are here, he knows. Shapes in the darkness, each attending to their own business. The scent of cooking reaches him. A low murmur of voices in discussion. The wagon’s shadow lays over them all blanketing them in safety. It is not home, but at this time, perhaps it may be close. They are here, those who remain, they are all here as he is.

“As are we all,” he murmurs in response and the simple words seem to cast the world into a sharper clarity.

“Aye.” Golden eyes meet his. He is held and knows he’ll not drift away again. The minstrel’s words are soft and measured as always, and if Volfred hears concern wrapped around the faintest of commands, well he is none too certain of his senses just yet. “Banishment sickness still holds sway. You must rest.”

There is much to do, but there is no argument to match those eyes nor the faded withered feeling of his own body. He closes his eyes and sleeps, cradled by song.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my playthrough in which Volfred was one of my victims of banishment sickness and I happened to have Tariq's status at strumming a tune. If that's not a prompt, I don't know what is. 
> 
> Pyre is terrifying to write, help.


End file.
